


Forgot All Prayers of Joining You

by lttledcve, spinncr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Marauders' Era, Sirius gets kidnapped, Sirius is the secret keeper, Tensions are running high in the Potter household
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-16 12:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lttledcve/pseuds/lttledcve, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinncr/pseuds/spinncr
Summary: A tingle went up her spine and she tensed automatically, going for her wand. But Remus’ voice rang through the room, a blue wolf of glowing light prowling through the room.“They’ve got Padfoot. Wormtail was the rat.”***This is an RP thread, so the POV will bounce back and forth between James and Lily.





	1. I. Gone

“I don’t know why the cradle is up a tree, James, that’s just how the song goes,” Lily harrumphed, albeit in a whisper. Harry was hovering on the edges of sleep, as she bounced him gently. The attempt at a lullaby was a desperate measure, because she couldn’t sing for to save her life, but Harry had hardly slept in the past two days, and if he didn’t sleep tonight, it just might be her life on the line. 

The gallows humor was a little bit much, perhaps. 

And it was hardly poor Harry’s fault he wasn’t sleeping. She knew James hadn’t slept in weeks, not truly, and she’d taken to pacing the hours away. There were only so many charms she could think up under duress, even if it was to make her son giggle his throaty little belly laugh. Even that had been harder to come by lately. 

Sirius still hadn’t reported in.

“Some of us weren’t raised on Ribbity Rabbity and her Warbling Rock, you know.” Or whatever the godforsaken story was called. Harry had a little book of wizarding fables, but Merlin help her she couldn’t keep them straight. She didn’t mean to be short with James, but  _ honestly.  _ Sighing, she switched the music to humming, because she privately agreed with her husband that the morbid song wasn’t worth singing to their son. She didn’t want a sad song for her baby, but the only other ones she could think of were about the plague or bridges collapsing. 

Finally,  _ finally,  _ Harry’s soft whuffling snores tickled her jaw and she smiled as she laid him in his crib, leaning back into James as he wrapped an arm around her. “He’ll be okay, James. It’s Sirius, he always lands on his feet. Like a cat.” Turning in his arms, she laid her head on his chest, and wished for a moment she could crawl inside his heart. It was such a light and warm place, where nothing bad ever happened. 

_ If only, if only. _

A tingle went up her spine and she tensed automatically, going for her wand. But Remus’ voice rang through the room, a blue wolf of glowing light prowling through the room. 

“ _ They’ve got Padfoot. Wormtail was the rat. _ ”

 

**_***_ **

 

He’s going out of his bloody mind. It’s not Lily’s fault, Merlin knows that she’s going just as stir crazy as he is with this, but he’s damn well sure this is going to be what does him in. James’ hands are itching to do something – anything – valuable. Meaningful. He doesn’t mean to sound ungrateful, and yes using his wand to entertain his son is absolutely  _ meaningful _ but-

His best mates are out there – fighting,  **dying** , while he sits tight and waits for someone to tell him something.

James has never been much of a sit tight and do nothing sort of bloke, and he can’t pretend to be someone that he isn’t. Especially when it’s  _ Sirius  _ who’s missing. He can feel something clawing its way up his throat, and for a moment it’s damn well hard to breathe, and the walls of the small cottage are closing in on him in a way that’s sure to suck the remaining oxygen out of the room.

_ “...in the treetop...” _

“Well that makes no bloody sense,” he snorts. “What the hell is it doing up there? Surely that’s bad parenting.” It’s meant to be funny, but even he can hear the bitterness, the frustration bolstering up every word.

Now he’s being a rubbish husband as well, and almost instantaneously his hand reaches out, fingers brushing up against the smooth skin on Lily’s neck before he starts to massage at some of the tension there.

“Babbitty Rabbitty,” the correction is immediate, and this time the corner of James’ lips start to quirk upwards in the start of a lopsided smile because honestly, there aren’t many opportunities to correct his wife.  “And her Cackling Stump.” His voice is a soft whisper, partially because he doesn’t want to upset Lily, and partially because he doesn’t want to get Harry started again. “It’s got a point at least- and ‘sides, it’s about animagi.”

It’s random babble about nothing, but he’s never felt so utterly  _ useless  _ before. But the moment his son is sleeping peacefully in his crib, and is out of his wife’s arms, Lily is being pulled into his and its reassurance that if anything she is okay. She is here, and she is safe.  “Yeah,” his voice is rough, and he tries to clear his throat discreetly. What he wants to say is that he’s not a cat, he’s a dog, but he can’t bring himself to do it. “Course he will.”

He doesn’t need to be a seer, or to have taken that utterly ridiculous class at Hogwarts to know that the message of Remus’ patronus doesn’t carry good news.

The second part doesn’t even register, not immediately, because James is too busy focusing on the first bit- his wand in his hand as he’s stepped away from Lily and his feet are moving of their own volition.

_ They’ve got Padfoot. _

_ They’ve got Padfoot. _

Remus’ words are on repeat, like one of those recordy devices Lily’s dad had showed him, and they’re deafening out any other thought he has. They have Padfoot, and he has to go. He has to find him, and bring him home. 

 

**_***_ **

 

It’s like ice in her veins. That’s what people always say, but it  _ hurts,  _ like frostbite on the wrong side of her skin, like she’s losing contact with a part of herself, in the most critical way. Because the boys, they’re the Marauders. They’re legends, they’re the thick and thin kind of friends, closer than brothers, but they’re her family, too, and it—

It  _ hurts _ —

She doesn’t even have time to process the pain, because he’s leaving, James is  _ leaving,  _ and before she knows what she’s doing, Lily has her wand aimed at her husband’s throat. 

“You take one more step, James Fleamont Potter, and I swear to god, and, and Godric—” she’s crying now, and she’s never hated James Potter as much as she does in this very second, “—and all the rest of them, you will never see your son again.” 

Why is he making her do this? Why is he the only one who gets to mourn Sirius, and storm off into the battlefield to rescue him? Why is she the one left behind, when he’s never once beaten her in a duel, and they’re neck and neck when it comes to hexes anyway?

Harry fusses behind her, his whuffling snore sending the tears in her eyes overboard. She wouldn’t run into the battlefield to save her life, not even James’ life, or any of the billion other people on this planet. No one but Harry. She wants to stay angry, it’s so much easier to be angry than scared, but the fight goes out of her, and there’s nothing left but to beg. If it were anything else but Harry, she’d hate herself for it, but. But. 

“James, please, you can’t go. Not this time. We’ll— We’ll find another way, but you know what’ll happen if you leave, and I can’t—”  _ I can’t do this on my own.  _

 

**_***_ **

 

_ They’ve got Padfoot. _

_ They’ve got Padfoot. _

Every damn beat of his heart is a reminder that in protecting them, his best mate, his brother, is out there giving up Merlin-knew-what pieces of himself instead. He can’t, he won’t, let Sirius die- not now. Not when there’s a chance that he can save him. There isn’t a plan, but he doesn’t need one. Hell, loads of the missions they’d gone on had been without a plan and they had worked out well enough.

What James hadn’t accounted for was the wand that is steadily aimed at his throat. He doesn’t move, he’s not sure if he’s even breathing honestly, but instead James waits. Half of him wants to tempt Lily, to see just how serious she is in her threats, and the other wants to make it out the front door of their home in one piece.

He also knows he could get passed the barrier and apparate if need be, but the look in her eyes freezes him in his spot.

“Don’t.” His voice is angry and pleading all at once. How dare she, he wants to rage. How dare she try and make him choose between them? His hand instantly finds his hair, and his fingers give the strands he’s clutching a sharp tug as his teeth grind. “Don’t, Lily. Just-”

If it were anybody else, he wants to scream, he wouldn’t even consider it. “It’s  _ Sirius _ ,” he whispers, willing himself not to break just at the mere thought. In a moment the weakness is gone, and it’s replaced with something hotter- sharper. “You know if it was me, or you, or Harry, nothing would stop him from going.  **Nothing** .”

He’s family, for Godric’s sake, and they’re supposed to what, just let him go? Let him suffer when there isn’t a single part of him that believes Sirius will give them up for anything, no matter the cost?

She’s ripping him in two, and he can’t blame her, can’t hate her, even if he wants to make her see – make her understand. “Who’s going to go for him, Lily?” James can tell he’s losing the battle, he’s always had a hard time denying her anything and fuck, he can’t jeopardize his son. “Who?” They were being picked off one by one, and if the rat had known about him, he surely would have-

_ Wormtail. _

A bitter, unamused laugh bubbles up his throat, and James clenches his fist to avoid punching a hole in the wall.

Fucking traitor. He wants to yell, he wants to do something – anything – but he still can’t move, and goddamn it if he does what he really wants to in this moment, in Harry’s  **_nursery._ **

“Threaten me all you want, Lils.” She already has him backed in a corner. He won’t leave her or Harry to fend for themselves. “But I’m not abandoning him.”

  
  


**_***_ **

 

She can the calculations whirring in that brilliant brain of his, knows he’s trying to figure out counter-jinxes, and stunning spells to delay her long enough to make it past the perimeter. It’s not enough,  _ she’s  _ not enough.  _ Harry. _ He’s going to leave Harry. 

She jabs him again with the end of her wand. “That’s because he has a death wish, and you  _ know _ it, James! How many times have you all nearly gotten yourselves killed for one of Sirius’ harebrained schemes? He knew the risks! He knew this is what would happen, we all did! For Harry, for his godson.  _ Our son. _ ” And it sounds heartless, even to her ears, sounds like she’s already said her goodbyes and moved on and that’s not true, she’s scared and hurting for him and wants all her boys back and safe, but there’s only one boy she can protect now. 

“Anyone but you!” she begs, openly sobbing now. There is no saving Sirius Black, not for James Potter, not this time. The minute he steps over that line, he is as good as dead. It isn’t an ‘if’. It isn’t Filch and Peeves and Marauders’ Maps. This is her family. Her husband, her  _ son.  _ Damn the stars in James Potter’s eyes. She’d known from day one they’d be the death of her, and she’d fought it for so long. 

“No, you’re abandoning us,” she says flatly. “You leave this house, James,” she whispers quietly, lowering her wand, “you won’t be coming back. We both know it.” With that, she turns her back on her husband and slides down to her knees, to lean her forehead against the rungs of Harry’s crib, running a finger over the chubby folds of his ankle. She doesn’t tell him she loves him, because she doesn’t want him thinking she’s saying goodbye, giving him permission to go. She doesn’t look at him because she doesn’t want to watch James walk away from them. She doesn’t want that to be the way she has to remember him for the rest of her life without him. 

 

**_***_ **

 

“Fuck’s sake, Lily,” he smacks the tip of her wand away from his throat. He’s already struggling to breathe, and he doesn’t need that thing jabbing hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He can’t think, he can’t keep up with that mouth of hers because he’s struggling to process.

James doesn’t correct her, simply because there’s no real reason to. His wife knows that all of the ideas, all of the stunts he and Sirius have pulled over the course of this war have not stemmed solely from his missing partner. He’s equally as guilty, and generally – most of the time – their plans paid off.  “Do you even hear yourself?” It’s not fair, and James knows it. She has every right, every single right to pull out every barbed arrow that she can, but fuck it all if it doesn’t  **hurt** . “We all knew that a war was coming! It didn’t stop any of us from fighting. We don’t have to just  _ accept  _ things! I won’t-”

The sight of her tears causes the words to die before they can roll off of his tongue, and he wants to go to her. He wants to, and he wants to shake her in the same breath because doesn’t she care? Doesn’t she want to try? For the first time since James can remember, he doesn’t cross the room to comfort his crying wife. Instead he stares, uncomprehending.

Bullshit, he wants to tell her. Bullshit is he abandoning them. James wants to tell her that it’s her lack of faith in him that’s causing this, that there’s no way that he can fail in this because it’s  _ Sirius’ _ life at risk. And if he promises to bring him home, and to come back to her, neither Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters would be able to stop him.

Instead he remains silent, and it’s his angry gasps for air that fill the room.

When he does walk out of the nursery, and nearly fly down the stairs in the process, it isn’t the front door that he reaches. It’s the living room, and James takes four steps, maybe five, before he whirls around with all of the grace of a skilled duelist before his fist connects with the wall with a loud thud. There’s another punch with the same fist, and two more in quick succession as they hit the same target with precise aim.

He needs to do something, anything. The pain radiating in his knuckles is a small jolt back to reality, and the smallest release of something as he begins to pace – his uninjured hand back in his hair as he thinks. 

 

**_***_ **

 

She expects him to storm out. She does, really, but that doesn’t stop it from cresting over her like a wave of regret, of pain.  _ Everything hurts.  _ This madman, he’s tearing apart their entire lives, just for some idiotic prophecy their idiotic divination professor couldn’t keep to herself. Does Voldemort honestly think her baby boy is the end-all, be-all of his inglorious reign? She shouldn’t, not when he’s sleeping, but she pulls Harry out of his crib, and hugs him to her chest and rocks him back and forth, like a lifeboat on the rough and ragged sea. 

The door doesn’t slam, and she doesn’t feel the tell-tale shimmer of the Fidelius Charm breaking, or bending to let one under its protection go free. He hasn’t left. For some reason that only make the tears fall harder. She loves that man, so much,  _ too _ much, and it’s going to be the death of them both one day. It dangerous, to love someone the way she loves James, the way James loves  _ everyone _ he considers family. It’s dangerous, and hurtful, and  _ hard,  _ and poor, poor Sirius. 

What has she done to him? Will he ever be able to forgive her? Will James?

She presses her lips to the wild kneazle nest that’s Harry’s hair, so much like his father’s, and vows to her son that he will know his godfather. She’ll find a way to get him back. For all of their sake. 

It doesn’t take long after that for Harry to settle into a deep sleep, and she reluctantly lays him back in his crib to follow her husband downstairs. 

She wants to beg him to forgive her, to grab her wand and follow him out the door to save their best friend, but she  _ can’t _ , and neither can he. “You leaving could break the charm. Dumbledore didn’t tell us if it could withstand that kind of visibility. What if someone sees you and follows you back? What if they  _ capture you? _ James—” she stops before it becomes a sob and lays her forehead on his chest. “Please don’t go.”

  
  


**_***_ **

 

He doesn’t know what to do. It’s the first time in a long time, longer than he can remember, that James doesn’t see a clear direction to start. Usually there’s something, anything, that helps his spinning mind focus on a point so that he can pour every ounce of energy that he has – and it’s usually a lot – towards that goal. This is war, and his best friend is missing. Captured by those who will do anything, short of killing him to get the information they need. Sirius Black is no good to Voldemort dead, but that fact brings James no relief.

There are worse things than death.

Running his hand through his hair, the pacing is no longer offering him any comfort or solution. Instead James focuses on something new, and he’s crossing the room rapidly to grab a quill, his favorite one, and a roll of parchment. The quill is dipped haphazardly into the inkpot but it doesn’t take long until everything he can possibly think of is being scrawled out across the parchment. Strategies, questions, anything and everything instinctual that is coming to mind pours out in an attempt to be useful – to come up with some way for someone to go in and find Sirius.

So lost in his thoughts, in the damn near roll of parchment he’s used up in an effort to get as much as he can to Moony, his wife’s voice startles him visibly. “I know.” The anger is gone, the desperation non-existent. He’s hyper focused on the task at hand, and once he finishes his latest thought, James is crossing the room to his wife this time, unable to keep away from her for long. “Lils, look at me.  _ I know _ .”

Using his thumb James lifts Lily’s chin to give her a quick kiss. He loves her, and he doubts she can even fathom how much. Most days, he’s not even sure he can truly understand. He wants to thank her, thank her for not saying ‘I told you so’ when she has every right to. He can’t leave, he can’t leave his boy, their son, upstairs.

His hands are itching to get back to the task at hand, and his eyes flick back towards the mess he’s made at the table, but she needs him. It can wait a few minutes.... **_Seconds_ ** . Remus will be waiting for some kind of response, if a warning not to leave the house isn’t already on its way, and every second he doesn’t do something is another second that his brother is alone.

The very hands that are itching to do something opt to hold his wife, to rub her back, to ease her tears. He hates that she’s right, that he can’t go, that this isn’t a simple fix – even if he knows he’s the best man for the job.

The ability to stand still is rapidly disappearing and after another quick kiss to her forehead he’s back at the desk, rummaging through drawers to find what he’s looking for. “Doesn’t mean we’re not bloody well useful. You up to help come up with a plan?”

 

**_***_ **

 

He tries to make the kiss quick, but she won’t let him get away that easily. Her husband, her sweet, ridiculous, open-hearted husband, whose already forgiven her. Who  _ stayed.  _ It’s not their best kiss. It’s soggy and salty, and she’s got cotton-mouth, but he’s  _ here.  _

They’ll find Sirius. 

“I love you,” she whispers, before tearing herself away. She gets to be with her family, and other families have been torn to pieces by Voldemort.  _ Her  _ family is being threatened. So she whacks James for being a smart ass, and wipes her cheeks absently while taking in his notes. “Help  _ you,  _ please. We all know who is going to be the assistant,” she muttered, spreading out his chaos a bit so she had room to  _ think.  _

“We need to find a way to contact Remus.” It hardly needed to be said. “We need to figure out how much time we have, where they might be keeping him. If Dumbledore has anybody on the inside that we can trust—” 

She’s only muttering now, frantically adding spells in the margins of James’ notes, filling in the blanks he’d left, solving the question marks he’d sprawled in his haste. 

 

**_***_ **

 

She pulls him back and he can’t help himself. James’ lips quirk upwards into a lopsided grin. “Are you flirting with me?” Stealing another kiss, his hands are in her hair – where they had spent the majority of their time in classes during seventh year- and he can’t help himself. There’s hope, damn it, and if anybody is capable of figuring this out it’s them. “Hardly the time, Evans. I’m going to need you to restrain yourself.”

As if Lily Potter needs to flirt with her husband – she already owns every piece of him.

“I love you too.” As if there had ever been a doubt. “Oy! And now you’re whacking me? Such mood swings. I don’t know about this, I might need you to step away from the desk. I don’t know how I feel having my plans laid bare in front of someone with such  _ violent  _ tendencies.” He’s trailing behind her now, not embarrassed in the slightest about the mess he’s created. It’s nothing his wife hasn’t seen before, and she’s become just as apt at deciphering his thoughts as the rest of the Marauders had.

Pushing a few scrolls to the side, James is quick to bring what he believes the most important ones to her attention. “Brilliant love, I’ve always wanted my own assistant. I think those magicians Vernon’s always on about have assistants with  _ outfits... _ ” James trails off, another random thought coming to mind that he’s eager to write down, leaning over her to get a clean piece of parchment.

“Remus’ll know most of it. There isn’t anyone else, love.” It’s a cold reminder. “Dumbledore can’t even trust the people he has on his own side, let alone a double agent.”

Peter. It’s the elephant in the room James can’t begin to think about. Not until Sirius is back safe. The betrayal is too hot, too fresh – too damn confusing.

“We’re going to have to time whatever we do right – and we don’t have much of it.” His latest scribbles include a list of places where they could potentially go – new houses that may be needed.    
  


 

**_***_ **

 

She bumps him with her hip out of her way, biting back a grin. It’s hardly appropriate, flirting on the brink of disaster, but she’s learned the hard way that in this day and age to take every smile you can get, and don’t question it. “Focus, Potter, or I’ll tell Padfoot you were staring at my arse, while I was trying to save him.” 

She narrows down her focus to the sheets James has pushed her way, locations, dark families, informants, trying to draw connections. No doubt Sirius’ family wants a go at him, if only to convert him and salvage the family name. She suppresses a shiver at the thought of the depths Walburga would sink to in order to achieve that end.  _ And Bellatrix.  _

_ There isn’t anyone else, love.  _ She pauses for a second, and covers his hand with hers. 

“Right,” she says, steeling herself. This is war, after all.  “So our initial goal is establishing contact with Remus. I can send him a note with the  _ pop! _ Charm, but it would be risky to do it from here. Kingsley mentioned a few week ago they’d started tracking apparations… I’m not sure how a non-human apparation would appear on their tracking mechanisms… Owls are obviously out, and everyone from here to Ilvermorny knows your nicknames…Perhaps a location spell? I’m sure he’s done basic protection wards. Our Remus is clever—”

She need to read up on her healing charms and potions. She kept them pretty well stocked but it was hard to get ingredients to replenish the supply while they were on lock down and Harry had just used up the last of her fever reducer with a bit of colic…

“What is this?” she muttered, picking up a bit of parchment to look at closer. She can only just barely decipher the words.  _ Molly Prewitt, Sirius’ cousin Andromeda, Petunia’s, Grandmother’s cottage at Whitby— _

“James, this isn’t… You don’t think—?” It’s too horrible to say aloud. Her heart breaks as she looks at him, face crumpling. And she accused him of choosing Sirius over them. James Potter is a better man than anyone has ever given him credit for.  _ Except for Sirius. Sirius has always known.  _

 

**_***_ **

 

“He’d bloody well believe you too, wouldn’t he?” James should feel guilty for the genuine smile he feels, but Merlin’s pants if it isn’t the most hopeful he’s felt in ages. His wife is the most brilliant witch he’s ever known, that most anyone who has crossed paths with her has ever known, and by Godric they’re going to do it. They’re going to bring Sirius home and there’s nothing else to it.

They just need to bring him back sooner rather than later. Prior to their going into hiding, they had seen enough of what the Death Eaters had been up to – especially with innocent muggle bystanders. With an explicit order to work their way through his best mate’s mind – to break everything they can- to break  _ him... _

James clears his throat to distract himself from that specific spiral. There isn’t time, he reminds himself of his own words, and instead focuses on everything he can, and all of the holes that Lily may be able to figure out and put together.

“Yeah, I don’t reckon a Patronus is going to be enough this time.” There’s too much planning, and Remus won’t dare come to the house now. Not after everything that’s happened with Peter. If anything, it’s likely the Death Eaters have an even higher security on him now as well. But his wife’s charm? “Your brilliant invention might be the ticket, love. I could charm a letter much like the map, but Pettigrew.” He’ll choke on the word if he calls him Wormtail.

But if they use Lily’s charm, they’ll have to be long gone from the house, set up somewhere else just in case. He doesn’t know the workings of her charm, the effects. And while no one else did either, any potential unintended consequences weren’t worth the risk. So when she finds his list, he waits for her to piece it all together, as he knows she will.

“Merlin, no.” Lily hardly gets the chance to finish what she’s saying before James jumps in definitively. “No.” Bending down he steals another kiss, his hand resting gently on her cheek, as his thumb traces the soft skin along her jaw. “Not  **_willingly_ ** .” It’s a harsh reality. “I don’t...I don’t know what they’re going to do to him, Lils. And V-  **him** ,” it’s not fear that keeps his name silent, but stories of his wards, “all of the rumors suggest he’s skilled in occlumency.” Beyond skilled, but it goes without saying. “I need to keep you and Harry safe.”

 

**_***_ **

 

A patronus would definitely be too risky. Wherever he was, they couldn’t risk blowing his cover, or having their message overheard. Her boys were brilliant and far ahead of their time, but excel in code writing, they did not. She could probably come up with some kind of scrambling charm, but it would still be too much of a risk to Moony for someone to see a patronus appear next to him. 

Peter’s surname caught on James’ tongue like the foreign language it was. Even Peter would’ve sounded odd coming off his lips, it was always  _ Wormtail, don’t step there, Wormtail, fetch me that parchment wouldya? Thanks, mate.  _ She looked away and let him have his moment. It would take a lot of adjusting, a lot of  _ mourning.  _ It was a cruel thought that sparked through her mind, but she could only hope Peter Pettigrew did not make it through this war, because she would not be responsible for what would happen should she ever encounter him again. 

James has always been more tactile than her, his touches always a bit weightier, a bit more solemn, like every time he touched her he felt honored. It was hard not to swoon, sometimes. Other times it was hard not to bat him away and let her do the dishes in peace. Her touch wasn’t imbued with the same  _ feeling _ as his was, and it made her feel guilty occasionally, but James never seemed to care. Or even notice, honestly. He just liked being able to touch her. And for now, she let herself have the comfort he was offering. They were together, they were as safe as they could be in this moment. And they were going to save their friend. And she was going to give back James all the comfort and care his touch offered to her. 

“Hey, hey. No one’s come for us yet. If— If anything happened… we’d know. He’d be here, or Sirius’—”  _ body,  _ she almost said. “—They’d brag about it, right? Parade it. Nothing’s happened yet.” She closed her eyes and rested her cheek in his hand, covering it with her own. “Sirius was the best out of all of us at Occlumency. He may not beat You-Know-Who, but… he’ll buy us as much time as he can. We’ll go. Somewhere new just in case, and then we’ll find him.” 

Somewhere new. They’d have to leave. “James, that’s it. Somewhere new. If we’re leaving anyway, it doesn’t matter if they can track the apparation charm!”

 

**_***_ **

 

Puzzles had always been interesting – Merlin knew the Marauders had come up with the fair share of them while at Hogwarts, but that had been for fun. For entertainment, and most had been born out of sheer boredom. This- this is not lazily lounging around the Gryffindor Common Room in an attempt to come up with something to do. This is Sirius’ life, and this war won’t claim his life too. Not if there’s anything James can do to stop it.

Briefly James wonders, how many of the Order is aware that it had been Peter? They had all known about the rat – something James can’t help but think fits. Everything had been planned meticulously to avoid, to circumvent any kind of traitor in their midst, but he had never for a second had considered that it would be his friend.

How many people had been killed because of Peter’s information? Had his own biased towards him prevented him from uncovering it sooner? How many times had Peter held his son, comforted him while they all devised ways to keep him  _ safe _ ?

Nausea suddenly rears its ugly head, and James’ free hand finds the chair behind him and he wisely chooses to keep his mouth firmly shut.

Something must show on his face, James thinks, because Lily is quick to reassure him and he smiles despite the futility of it all. Nothing will make up for Peter’s betrayal, and until Sirius is with them – safely – he isn’t sure that he’ll be able to focus on much beyond what he can do within the limitations due to their situation. “Is the best,” he corrects in a way that he hopes comes off lightly, because the alternative is something that can’t be considered.

Of  _ course. _ “You’re bloody brilliant, you know that?” Course she did, but that was beside the point. “We’ll just be gone. We’ll pack up, get set up...Then send what we need to Moony.” It sounds simple enough, but there’s room for error, with dire consequences. His hand rests on the back of her neck, tracing invisible patterns on her skin as he thinks, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I’d hate to ask Molly Prewett- or Weasley, now, isn’t it? They’ve a family of their own.”

 

**_***_ **

 

Lily’s heart stops for a moment, in horror. She hadn’t meant— only that— Speechless at her unforgivable gaffe, Lily squeezes James’ hand.  “Is the best,” she repeats, solemnly, a promise of its own. She’ll spend the rest of her life making up that slip of the tongue to Sirius, and it’ll be a long fucking time, too, she swears it. Because they’ll get him back, and he’ll  _ keep  _ being better than her occlumency, and she’ll be a right poor loser about it. It’ll be grand, it’ll be great, because he’ll be  _ here.  _

“I’ll start packing everything right away. There’s not much we need really, mostly just Harry’s things, and, and the stuff of your parents’.” That what matters most, after the things they need to survive. She’ll live in rags in a box, as long as her boys are safe, and healthy and happy.  _ All  _ of her boys. James is utterly focused, his brain no doubt whirring with plans and failsafes and more plans, anything to get to Sirius. She loves him, she loves him  _ so much,  _ and she’ll die before she lets this get taken from him, too. 

“Her brothers maybe? I remember one of them helped Mary MacDonald when we were in school. Can’t remember which, maybe it was both? I don’t know, but they had a safe house. Perhaps Dorcas knows someone…?” Her mind sets to whirring as well, focusing on different problems than James, but they’ve always complemented each other well. His hand is a grounding warmth on her neck and she lets herself just  _ be _ in his arms. They’ll solve this, they’ll save him, there’s no other choice. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing James recognizes is that Sirius isn’t in human form, but instead takes the form of his animagus. It’s not a good sign, and whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. The second thing is his wife’s warning, before he’s all but laid out flat on his back, the weight of two heavy paws pressing down on his chest and the large white fangs that are bared as his brother snarls at him. “Hullo to you too, Pads,” he tries to wheeze out, as he catches his breath. “You’re embarrassing me in front of my wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throwing a little Sirius POV in there :)
> 
> You can find us at pr0ngs and mrspr0ngs on tumblr!

For the first time in a long time, Lily Potter has no idea what to do.  _ He’s back, Sirius is  _ back,  _ Sirius is  _ **alive.** And he’s—

He’s not  _ Sirius.  _

His fur is mangled and his frame is gaunt. There’s blood shimmering in his matted coat, the inky mess only visible by it’s faint shine against the black. His teeth are bared, and his eyes, their  _ empty— _

“James,  _ don’t!”  _ But it’s too late, her husband has already sprinted out the door, thrown himself as his best friend, and Lily  _ screams _ because that’s  _ not Sirius, that’s not their Sirius!  _ Just as quickly as James had rushed out, Sirius was on him, vicious growls filling the air. Her wand is out and she’s flinging every non-lethal jinx she can think of at her best friend.  _ Tarantallegra! Locomotor Wibbly! Impedimenta! Flipendo!  _ But he’s relentless. They need to get inside, they need to get  _ Sirius  _ inside before they’re located, before someone comes to investigate all the noise and sees who is creating it. They need to get inside  _ before they wake the baby— _

Right on cue, Harry’s soft little sobs raise through the air. Her sweet boy has never been shrill, he’s quiet, almost eerily so, and his crying is soft and unobtrusive, as if he hates to bother them with his paltry concerns. 

But it’s enough, and Sirius stops dead, ears perked and nostrils flaring. “No, Sirius! James, he’s going for—” and that’s all she manages because she’s knocked flat on her ass, and a rabid dog is going after her baby boy.

 

**_***_ **

 

They’ve bloody well done it, and James feels drunk off of their success. He’s alive, Sirius is  _ alive _ , and with limited resources they’ve managed to break into one of Voldemort’s most secure places and rescue his most important prisoner out clean from under his nose.

He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t take a split second to think about the ramifications of throwing the front door open to drag his arsehole of a best mate inside, to shake him – to hug him –

The first thing James recognizes is that Sirius isn’t in human form, but instead takes the form of his animagus. It’s not a good sign, and whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t  _ that.  _ The second thing is his wife’s warning, before he’s all but laid out flat on his back, the weight of two heavy paws pressing down on his chest and the large white fangs that are bared as his brother snarls at him. “Hullo to you too, Pads,” he tries to wheeze out, as he catches his breath. “You’re embarrassing me in front of my wife.”

Perhaps if he hadn’t been so taken by surprised, he would have been able to anticipate. But Harry’s soft cries still surprise him, and he freezes, momentarily hesitating as he watches his best mate stand at attention as if he’s trying to figure out what’s going on.

In the quick moment of giving him the benefit of doubt Sirius has barreled past his wife and towards the new nursery. “Oi!” Scrambling to his feet rather ungracefully, James barely has a moment to fix his glasses before he’s taking off after the giant black dog, not pausing to so much as help his wife up as he goes. Sirius has always been quick in this shape, and he can’t spare the moment, not when it’s  **_Harry._ **

His son is sitting up in his crib, with two fists wrapped firmly around the bars as he blinks at the dog now in front of him. James holds his breath, his wand at the ready to stun his best friend if needed, but before he can move he hears it.

“Pihfoo?”

He wants to laugh – or he wants to cry, James isn’t really sure which, because  **_of course_ ** his son can distinguish between the two. He knows Sirius in any form, and he knows and understands who Padfoot is. And why shouldn’t he?

He’s his godfather.

“Yeah, Harry. Padfoot. He’s come home,” his voice is soft, both not to alarm his son, or his best friend. “Easy mate,” he warns Sirius carefully. “Let’s not startle him, yeah?”

 

**_***_ **

 

The nightmares never seemed to end, flashing from one to the next, James dead, Remus dead, Lily holding Harry’s little body, Regulus in pieces— it all blurred together, and he was mad from it. Sirius knew the truth was in there somewhere, recalled flashes of Bellatrix and Walburga leering at him, the spark of concern in his mother’s gaze too jarring to be a trick, too painfully sincere to be a manipulation she thought of herself. Those moments were what held him together. 

Torture. They were torturing him, but it  _ wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real.  _ There didn’t exist a world in which he would live when James and Lily Potter died. 

But the moments in between the nightmares grew dimmer and dimmer, fewer and farther between, harder to grasp when they came, harder to hang onto when they disappeared. And the nightmares, they grew more clever. 

Remus, betraying his family, selling out the Potters, Voldemort cackling over Harry’s mangled crib, Regulus and Remus taking turns chaining him, Severus Snape holding the key. 

He started fighting back. He didn’t know what was real any longer, but he was fairly certain Lily and James were dead. He had killed them, no,  _ Remus,  _ Remus had killed them, Wormtail was—he couldn’t keep it straight, but  _ something _ was real, and he couldn’t give up, couldn’t lay down and die when his brother was yet to be avenged. 

This time it was Remus, tangling him up again in chains, throwing him this way and that. He snarled, to weak to work up much more than that, but didn’t hesitate to tear into the arm that came into reach, to lunge for the throat. Feeble as he was, it didn’t tear open as he had planned, but Moony cried out in pain—

Moony was in pain— 

No, Moony was a traitor—

“Traitor,” he hissed, his voice a bloody gurgle, throat too ragged from screaming. “You dirty fucking TRAITOR!” Remus was saying something, his eyes dark with pain, well  _ good,  _ if it was even a fraction of the pain James would’ve felt it could never be enough. 

And then grass, and that  _ scent— It’s James. Prongs. That’s Prongs— _

A trick, another mind game, a death eater in disguise, and Sirius pounced, going for the throat again, mouth frothing in his viciousness. He was  _ done,  _ he was done with the torture, the agony of seeing his best mate torn into time and time again, only to be revealed a vision, a memory, he didn’t know, couldn’t  _ know.  _ No more. This time he’d kill them, all of them, wipe every last death eater off the face of the planet, starting with the one who dared to wear James’ face—

Crying. 

_ Harry.  _

Harry’s alive, Harry’s  _ here _ ,  **NO.** He couldn’t let them get him, not his boy, not his godson. Real or a dream or a nightmare, it didn’t matter. Not a ridiculous hair on his head would be harmed, Sirius didn’t care if it was the Dark Lord himself wearing Harry’s skin, no one would DARE touch him—

He’s there, past a flash of red, screaming, and man like James murmuring, “ _ he’s come home.”   _ Too close, and Sirius snarls, putting Harry at his back, the impostor at his front, snapping when he reaches out a hand. 

Harry grabs a fistful of fur and  _ tugs _ and words start breaking through the haze. 

“Pihfoo! Pihfoot back’gain Dadadada! PIHFOO!” 

The urge to howl his pain is almost overwhelming, call out to a pack that’s no longer there. The chances of little baby Harry being real, and  _ alive,  _ are slim to none, but it’s not a chance he’s willing to take. He has to get him away from the Death Eaters—

He’s torn the side of the crib free with his teeth, Harry shocked into silence. It’s pause enough to take the baby’s onesie in his teeth and sprint free, following his nose to the most familiar spot. He can’t go far, there’s too much damage, but anywhere is better than cornered. 

He curls up in the place that smells most like James and Lily and Remus and Harry, curling his form around the infant until he almost can’t be seen. And promptly growls at the hand reaching for him again. They’re back, the impostors, wearing his friends faces, and he  _ can’t take it—  _

He throws his head and howls, the sound as close to a sob as a dog can manage. 

 

**_***_ **

 

The air suddenly feels heavier, and James can almost feel Lily’s warning weighing his chest down as he breathes slowly, deliberately careful not to make any sudden movements. It’s not the reunion he had been hoping for – hell, dreaming for – and it’s not bloody fair, but he has to let it go. It had been foolish to hope that Sirius would come back exactly as he had been before he had disappeared. He’s only a man, the same as he is.

But they’re also the  _ Marauders _ . They’ve always been the damn exception to the rule, and rules were more of...guidelines, meant to be stretched and bent as far as they could take them. And – occasionally, when good reason presented itself, broken.

_ C’mon Padfoot. _

He doesn’t know what he’s wishing for, doesn’t know what he expects to happen, but the trust in his best friend has never wavered. Not for a second. Remus should be here, with them, trying to figure this out. It’s just the three of them, but James understands. If he could have done it, if he could have turned himself in to get Sirius back safely, he would have.

It hadn’t been an option available to him, and instead the burden had gone to Remus. Moony, who now had to tie up loose ends and play a dangerous game. He had to walk along the edge of the knife until it was safe to slip away relatively unnoticed. And after providing such valuable, reliable information, to the Dark Lord and his followers, it won’t be simple.

_ One step at a time, Prongs _ , he reminds himself.

Right now his focus needs to be on Sirius, Sirius who has bounded into the barely put together nursery and has placed himself very precariously between James and Harry, the dog’s hackles damn near rising at the thought of him getting anywhere near his son.

“You kept him safe, mate.” His voice is slow and steady, and James feels as if he’s talking to a wild animal. But even in this state, even running on complete animal instincts, Sirius is determined not to let anything, or anyone, near his godson.

The thought is devastating, but at the exact moment James’ vision starts to go blurry for a reason other than his awful eyesight, his lips quirk in a proud, knowing smile.

_ Of course he bloody well wouldn’t. _

“I know Harry, I know. Padfoot’s back, he came to see you.” He can’t find the words to explain to Harry want is happening, and he can’t explain why his godfather isn’t scooping him up loudly and uproariously before they go off to play, or read one of his favorite stories.

“It’s alright, Lily!” He angles his head towards the hallway, unsure of how quickly his wife has followed him up the stairs, but the noise the crib makes as it bends and breaks underneath Padfoot’s teeth is damn near frightening, and he can’t imagine what it sounds like to someone who isn’t witnessing it first-hand. “The crib got in the way, I can fix it later.”

What he doesn’t have time to do, is warn his lovely wife that their friend, in animal form, is bounding back down the stairs with their son being held like a puppy. James isn’t far behind, his wand stashed in his back pocket as he follows, not worried for Harry’s safety in the slightest. But he does know where Sirius is headed.

He refused to get rid of that stupid couch. They’d gotten it after graduation, and from flat to flat it had gone with them, and rather than leave it in Godric’s Hollow to be destroyed, James had snuck it off with them.

The howl snaps him out of the memories, and he feels like cursing. How is he supposed to convince Sirius? “He doesn’t think we’re real.” The conclusion dawns on him as he spins on his heel to look at Lily, one hand finding his hair.

“I’m going to kill every last one of them, Lils. Where the bloody fuck is Moony?” Why hadn’t he said anything before dropping Sirius off on their front door?

 

**_***_ **

 

They’re fighting a war that could very well end life as they know it, and yet Lily’s never been quite so scared fighting werewolves and death eaters and all manner of creatures of darkness, as she is right now, watching her son’s godfather launch himself into her home, going for her son. 

A part of her, the part that would forgive Sirius any crime— _ any crime but one— _ insists that her friend would never hurt Harry, no matter what they did to his brain. But the rest of her, the parts that are  _ Lily Evans, mother, brightest witch of her age,  _ can’t be so forgiving, can’t allow for a soft heart. Soft hearts make mistakes, trust the wrong people. James, Merlin bless him, had a soft heart, and she had trusted it, and it had nearly gotten them all killed. She didn’t blame him, no, she blamed Peter Pettigrew, but neither would she make the same mistake and trust her husband’s foolishly open heart before her own mind. She’s right behind James, stopping only to make a detour for her wand, the wand she’d dropped upon hearing Sirius outside— _ foolish girl!— _ and her heart nearly stops at the sound of splintering wood. 

“James—!  _ What?!”  _ She shrieks, and it’s only because he doesn’t sound panicked that she doesn’t hurl an Unforgivable at the beast hauling  _ her child by his scruff like a damn puppy!  _ It’ll be funny later, but it’s terrifying now, and now more than ever, more than watching him snarl at her husband’s throat, does she realize just what a dangerous creature Sirius’ animagus form is. It’s built to fight, to hunt, to kill. 

_ To protect.  _

The howl jars her, sending chills down her spine, and without even realizing what she’s doing, she’s grabbed her husband’s hand in hers and gripped it white-knuckles-tight. “Oh, Sirius,” she sighs, the sound almost a sob, and covers her mouth with her hand, like it’ll keep the heartbreak in, make it less real. “James, what did they do to him?” She whispers. At Remus’ nickname, Sirius starts growling again, and Lily edges closer to James. Harry might not be a target, but she doubts they’ll be extended the same courtesy. “He’s got Harry, James. Do we just… leave him there?” 

She not opposed to it, she guesses. She really doesn’t think at this point Harry is in any harm, but really, he should be sleeping in a crib. What if he rolls off the couch?  _ Really, Lily? What if he’s  _ **_eaten by a feral dog?_ ** She slumps against James and rubs at her forehead. She feels the hysterical urge to laugh, or maybe it’s the despairing urge to cry. It all feels the same at the moment.

“He’s back,” she murmurs, reminding herself. “He’s back, and he’s alive, and we’re going to fix this.”

 

**_***_ **

 

“Put your wand away, Lils.” His voice is sure, there’s no trace of doubt to be found. He knows for a fact that their son is safe with his godfather. Sirius has demonstrated no hostility towards Harry, and has instead saved it all for the young boy’s parents. James, despite everything he truly wants to do, remains at a comfortable distance. He’s confident he can step in if needed, but he doesn’t truly believe it’s necessary, and well...Padfoot looks like he could use a moment to not be so on edge.

His wife on the other hand, looks as if she’s about to have a fit. Godric help him, James isn’t sure he deserves such a wife. She has no reason to have the same amount of trust he does, and that’s their, her son, hidden in the massive shaggy black fur of Sirius’ animagus form It’s terribly out of place, and he knows it, so James fights the bout of laughter he feels coming on, and his shoulders shake from the effort of it all.

It’s not amusing, and he’s exhausted. But rather than fall into the pits of hysteria, James reaches out for Lily and his arms wrap securely around her as he all but cradles her against his chest. Part of the battle is won, and while it might not be the war...It’s enough for now. Maybe for the first night in weeks, he’ll be able to at least get a few hours of sleep.

He really is an awful bed-mate, isn’t he?

“Merlin’s left saggy-” he bites his tongue, no not literally, because he anticipates the whack he’ll receive for his ‘language’ in front of his son who isn’t giving him the time of day. James isn’t surprised, even as a dog Sirius has always managed to somehow outshine him in his son’s eyes. “Cheek, I was going to say cheek.” He wasn’t, and the small grin he shoots his wife is the proof she needs, before he tries to distract her with a pinch.

“I don’t know,” he finally breathes out with a one shoulder shrug. He doesn’t know, he can’t even begin to guess, and he hates it. “Something to do with us, I reckon. Moony too, judging on the reaction his name just received.”

Because of course Voldemort and his followers would use the people who cared about Sirius to break him.

“Well I’m certainly not reaching my hand in to grab him.” While Harry is perfectly safe where he is, James doesn’t think that it’ll be well received, if either of them try and take the toddler from him now. “Hey...it’s alright. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to any of us.” His voice is soft, genuine, and he’s not teasing. Not this time, not when James can tell how much she really needs his assurance right now.

There’s a time to be playful, and while generally James believes that’s  _ all  _ the time, even he can concede it’s not necessarily what Lily needs right now.

“I’m practically a pro, you know. I’ve antlers if needed, and if I could hold off Moony without hurting either of us, I’m sure I can handle Pads if he wants a real go.”

Well, it lasted for about a minute, right?

“Course we will. He’s in there, Lils. He’ll come out when he’s ready.”

 

**_***_ **

 

James Potter admitting to uncertainty is… it’s shocking, and frightful, and Lily feels in that moment incredibly unsafe. They’re kids trying to fight a war, and raise a bloody baby, and, and—

They’re not  _ ready.  _

What had Dumbledore given them? How had he prepared his eager army of children? He’d hand-picked a bunch of seventeen year olds fresh from the crop, and thrown them into a war they couldn’t possibly hope to win. How could the light even hope to conquer when the dark only seemed to grow thicker every day?

Despair threatens to overwhelm her, and she focuses instead on her son, her little boy, falling gently asleep in the safe embrace of the savviest guard dog they could ever hope to have. Sirius, who doesn’t know up from down right now, knows that Harry is to be protected at all costs. It breaks her heart and remakes it anew all at once. This is her family, and  _ no one _ is taking it away from her again. If Sirius is keeping Harry safe, well, Merlin’s baggy pants, she’ll keep Sirius safe in return. She’ll figure out what they did and Godric help her, she will put it to rights. 

She squeezes James’ hand and pulls away. “Not in the house, love,” she murmurs with a smile. “Stay with them. See if Sirius will let you any closer. I’m going to start researching.” She leaves the room, not without taking one last look, however, and goes to find her old dark arts textbooks. There has to be something in there. 

As she rummages about, she thinks about Remus, the look on his face as he apparated away. Something had gone wrong, she knows it. Why else would he have left so quickly, and without even a warning? Enough with the undercover nonsense, it’s too dangerous with Peter on the other side, and she refuses to go through the pain of losing one of her boys again. She’d forced Remus’ hand, she’d abandoned him  _ and _ Sirius to their fates to save her husband, even though they were family just as much. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t  _ right,  _ and the guilt washes through her all at once. Weeks of it, all built up, just waiting for her guard to drop.  _ What had she done?   _

It’s not smart, a risk they can’t very well afford to have, but she sends her patronus to Remus, just a flicker, not even any words, just to check in.  _ Please be safe, please come home, we need you here.  _

A wolf appears and swirls around her, only to disappear without a word more. 

For some reason, that only makes her feel worse. 

 

**_***_ **

 

He can’t remember a time where his wife has been so completely...silent. James has never seen her not give her input on anything and everything, and had been the victim of her temper more than once when he had gone about doing something she wasn’t particularly fond of.

It’s unnerving in a way that James isn’t used to feeling. In fact, he’s positive that Lily Evans, now Potter, is the only person in the world capable of making him feel that way.

He supposes it’s only fair, seeing as she’s the only person in the world who’s capable of making him feel a great many things.

Sirius has quieted, for now at least, and he can see the steady rise and fall of his son’s breathing as he snuggles up against the dog. There isn’t anything to worry about with that, and so for a moment he allows himself to just revel in the fact that they’ve done it. The only thing missing is Moony, but they’ll get him back here safely too. They’ve achieved the damn near impossible, so they will fix that too. Lily’s right, and for just a moment James let’s some of the tension in his shoulders fade.

Just because his friends are all willing to die in order to keep his family safe, doesn’t mean they have to. Not if there’s anything he can do to prevent it.

“Not unless it’s absolutely necessary,” he agrees with a caveat. He’s careful to not make promises he knows he will break if it comes down to a choice. And if his best mate determines that his wife is a threat to their son, well, Prongs’ll do well to keep the dog at a safe distance while Lily gets herself to safety. “Rest too, Lily.” She’s been working damn hard to help come up with ideas to bring him home.

But with Remus still in danger, the job hardly feels like it’s done and he can hardly blame her. Divide and conquer, he supposes. He’ll work on one, and she’ll work on the other, and eventually they’re bound to meet in the middle. Or, the more likely solution, is that his wife will beat him to the middle, and James’ll have to ask for help when she’s run out of patience.

“Alright, Pads.” He doesn’t move closer just yet, but his full attention is now on the animagus form of his best friend. “I don’t know what these bastards did to you, but we’re gonna make it right.  I know I ought to thank you, but it’ll come when you’re yourself, and I’m not so mad that I’ve put you in this mess to begin with.”

And he is mad, furious at himself, that while Sirius was out there fighting for his life, while maintaining the secret, he’s been in hiding doing absolute fuck all to help this war.

“We started plotting the second Moony send along his patronus to let us know what happened. That you’d been taken, and Wormtail was the rat.” There’s a quiet snort as he talks to his best friend, knowing that he isn’t going to get a response, but not really caring either way. “Fitting, considering 20/20 hindsight and all that. Thought I wouldn’t know. I don’t reckon my eyesight’s ever been that good.”

There’s a brief pause. “I wanted to come immediately you know, almost did.” His jaw ticks as he clenches it, and he sits on the chair next to the couch, closer...but not close enough that he can touch. His wand is in his lap now, just in case. Constant vigilance, and all that. “Thought Lily was gonna knock me out. She probably would have if I had. But Harry...” James’ eyes fall to his sleeping son, who’s sleeping the best he has in _weeks_... “Fuck, Sirius. We did everything we could, I came up with as much information as I could for Moony, Lily...The three of us tried to come up with the right amount of information, you know? What was safe to leak, what wasn’t. You’d have been better at it than me. ‘m too optimistic, or something. Utter nonsense, if you ask me.”

He doubts he’s getting anywhere, but James has to try. “Do you do what you have to Padfoot. Hell, stay with Harry for the next few weeks like that if you want. He’s your godson.” He pauses. “Just don’t give him fleas, yeah?”  
  



End file.
